Then one day I looked down and the line was gone. My grandmother had forgotten to draw it. I waited for Shen to take the first piece of chicken, and he waited for me. Neither of us grabbed. Neither of us hoarded. Somehow, we’d gone from food enemies to friends. Neither of us knew when it had happened. We just knew we no longer needed the line. I thought about that and how maybe people do change, as I thought about Jason.
